Page 26 of Last Wish Wedding

“She’s actually seeing him today for a massage. I hope she doesn’t talk his ear off about the mansion.”

Mac’s expression softened slightly. “She really wants to buy it from him. That I know. But he promised my grandmother to keep it as it was. She worked there you know, when they were first married. I don’t know the whole story, but I think she had some sentimental reason.”

“I’m surprised you know Amy.” Kelsey watched his profile. “I mean. Amy says you’ve barely spoken.”

He was quiet for a moment, adjusting a line. “I know most people on the island, I just don’t find it necessary to socialize. And I do try to know who my neighbors are, especially as their landlord.”

“Oh, right.” Of course he was. “But isn’t that what we’re doing? Socializing?”

His eyes met hers, his expression unreadable. “No. You’re just... someone I respect.”

A gust of wind blew her hat, and he caught it for her just in time, re-adjusting it on her head. A strand of hair had come loose, so Mac reached out to tuck it behind her ear. “And someone who isn’t a pain to be around.”

The way he said it made her breath catch. Before she could respond, the wind shifted, and Mac stepped away to adjust the sails. The moment slipped away like water through her fingers.

Chapter 10

Mac expertly maneuvered between the forest of masts and hulls at the Portland waterfront, responding with a nod of his head to occasional greetings to other boaters as they made their way to the dock. Once secured, he led Kelsey to a silver Range Rover parked in a private slip holder’s lot.

“You keep a car here?” Kelsey asked as he unlocked the doors.

“Easier than dealing with cabs or rentals.” He started the engine. “Portland’s my supply stop for everything from boat parts to decent coffee beans.”

Traffic was light as they wound through the cobblestone streets of the Old Port. The morning sun glinted off storefronts and coffee shops already bustling with tourists.

“I’ve got that meeting with my attorney at ten,” Mac said, checking his watch. “Shouldn’t take more than an hour. And then I have to meet with Johnson for some paperwork he’s been nagging me about.”

“Johnson?”

“My PA. Keeps my life from falling apart while I plan to sail away from it.” He smiled wryly. “We’re meeting at Arabica after.”

“Oh, I love that place!” Kelsey brightened. “Look, why don’t I wander a bit? I’ve been wanting to check out Sherman’s Books, and there’s that little shop on Exchange Street that carries those bath products Amy loves. I haven’t had a proper Portland shopping morning in ages. Noah isn’t exactly the best shopping companion.” She adjusted her bag.

“I can relate to the kid. I’m not the best shopping companion either.”

“What time should I meet you?”

“How’s eleven thirty at Arabica?” Mac drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “After, if you’re up for it, I know this place up the coast. Best lobster rolls in Maine. We could grab lunch, maybe some takeout for dinner, then sail around the islands for a bit before heading back. I need to practice my navigation techniques anyway.”

“Sounds perfect.” She tried to ignore the flutter in her stomach at the thought of spending the afternoon with him, which could be exactly what he had in mind, too, because he really didn’t seem to need any navigation practice.

He pulled into a spot near the waterfront. “You remember where Arabica is?”

“Down Middle Street, past the kitchen store with all the copper pots in the window.”

“Right.” He hesitated, then leaned over to pull a business card from the glove box. “You have my cell number, right?”

His sudden proximity had her holding her breath. Their fingers brushed as she took the card from him, and for a moment, neither moved. Then a car horn blared nearby, breaking the spell.

“Eleven thirty,” she said, opening her door.

“Don’t get lost in the bookstore,” he called after her.

Kelsey waved without turning around, already planning her route through the familiar streets. Behind her, she heard his car door slam and tried not to think about how much she was looking forward to seeing him again in a few hours.

Kelsey hummed to herself as she pushed open the door to Arabica, her shopping bags rustling. The scent of coffee and pastries enveloped her as she spotted Mac at a corner table with a lean, thirty-something man in a crisp suit.

Mac stood as she approached. “Kelsey, this is Johnson.”